


Surfacing

by Savageseraph



Series: Drowning and Surfacing [2]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Accidents, Community: contrelamontre, Drowning, Fear, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Love, M/M, Near Death, New Zealand, Phone Calls & Telephones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-30
Updated: 2003-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-02 19:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savageseraph/pseuds/Savageseraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sleep.  Drowning was a little like falling asleep, Viggo thought, as he looked up at the sunlight dancing on the surface of the river.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surfacing

**Author's Note:**

> Companion piece to "[Drowning](http://www.livejournal.com/community/sons_of_gondor/3824.html)." Same events, this time from Viggo's POV.
> 
> Written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/contrelamontre/profile)[**contrelamontre**](http://community.livejournal.com/contrelamontre/) and crossposted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/sons_of_gondor/profile)[](http://community.livejournal.com/sons_of_gondor/)**sons_of_gondor**. An improv fic with the following guidelines: Write a story featuring at least three different scenes. The last word of each scene has to be the first word in the subsequent scene, and the last word of the story needs to be the same as the first word of the story. The time limit is 90 minutes.

Sleep. Drowning was a little like falling asleep, Viggo thought, as he looked up at the sunlight dancing on the surface of the river. His limbs felt heavy and clumsy, not quite under his control. The numbness that started at his fingers and toes had worked its way up his limbs. He worried that once it reached his chest it would stop his heart.

Viggo didn't want to die. Wasn't going to die. His fingers tensed as he tried to claw his way toward the surface, but the current was too strong. It pressed him down, down into the dark and the mud. His chest ached with the pressure of breath held too long. He exhaled a cluster of bubbles to ease the tightness just a bit. The urge to inhale was strong. So strong. Soon he wouldn't be able to fight it, and the water would rush into his throat, his sinuses, his lungs. He shook his head, flailed uselessly against the strength of the river.

He couldn't die--not when he had so many things he still needed to do. Like paying Orlando back for stealing his sword and forcing him on a scavenger hunt to reclaim it. Or beating Astin at chess. He needed to develop the five rolls of film he shot last week, and he needed to call Henry to tell him how much he loved him. And Sean...Sean he just needed.

###

Needed...to breathe.... Viggo's vision blurred. The water buffeted him until he lost all sense of direction. The numbness crept into his shoulders and spread along his collarbones. Not...much time.... When he struck a rock, the impact startled the breath out of him, and he inhaled some water, sputtered and coughed and gagged. He used the burst of panic to push off from the rock and prayed that he was headed toward air and sky. Just as he opened his mouth to draw in the first lungful of water, his head broke the surface.

One of the crew's boats was quite near, and they pulled him, limp and shaking, from the water. He huddled in the boat, wrapped in blankets, but the numbness didn't fade--not even after he was safe on land. Could it still seep into his chest and kill him? Viggo thought it could.

Still, he shrugged off offers of dinner or company or a ride home, and people nodded, gave him his space. They were already gone by the time he whispered, "Don't leave me alone," to the empty air. Viggo began shivering, "Please don't leave me alone."

He needed something to warm him, to make the numbness go away. He needed Sean.

###

Sean answered the phone after only two rings, which was impressive, given that it was the middle of the night in England. The sound he made into the phone wasn't so much a word as a collection of rough and blurred consonants.

Viggo's hand tightened on the phone. His mouth went dry; his throat constricted.

"Hello?" Once he was able to form words, Sean's voice had a bit of an edge. "Who the hell is this?"

Viggo swallowed. "Sean?"

"Vig...?" Sean sounded confused, drew a deep, shuddering breath. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Viggo started to shake; he hoped his voice wouldn't betray him. "Nothing. I just wanted to say hello."

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" A brief pause. "You sure you're OK? You don't sound right."

Damn it. The hand not holding the phone closed into a fist. He was not going to cry. Not going to. "Just tired."

"Ah." Sean didn't sound convinced.

"I miss you, Sean." He regretted the words as soon as they were out, tensed as he anticipated Sean's reaction.

Sean chuckled. "I'll be back in a few days, you daft bastard."

Viggo smiled for the first time since the accident, buoyed by Sean's laughter. "I know."

"And you owe me for waking me in the middle of the night, right?"

"Whatever you want, Sean."

The silence lasted a beat too long. "Sean?"

"I collect on my debts, Mortensen." Sean yawned; there was a soft thud and a muffled curse as Sean dropped and had to retrieve the phone. "Can we go to sleep now, Vig?"

"Yeah, I think we can."

"Mmmm. 'Night, Vig."

The line went dead before Viggo could whisper, "'Night, Sean."

Viggo turned the phone off and rolled onto his side. He pulled a throw over himself and clutched the phone to his chest. When his eyes closed, he didn't see glimmers of distant light mocking him as he sank into shadow: he saw Sean, golden and laughing. The image warmed him, clung to him even as he drifted to sleep.


End file.
